Duong Jai
by faorism
Summary: AU kakairu. A tale of doctors, languages, eye-patches and two very silly men.
1. Joli Docteur

_Author's Notes_: NC-17 for later chapter(s). AU. TRANSLATIONS ARE AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER.

_Beta_: LJ's kita_the_spaz

_For the following_: LJ- **kakairu_kink** (request: foreign language kink); **52_flavours** (prompt: 34- Duong jai); and **dancingjadedrag** (prompt: Doctor Hatake).

_Summary_: A tale of doctors, languages, eye-patches and two very silly men.

_Disclaimer_: I do not own the Naruto franchise or any characters or events that align with those of the series, and do not claim to do so. I also do not claim to own any copyrighted items, any items not copyrighted but still owned by another party, any real locations I may mention, or crossed-over characters I may incorporate. I do own this story, the plot, and any original characters or locations I create.

Without further ado, I present to you, "Duong Jai."

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Chapter One: _Joli Docteur_

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His steps brisk and to the point, one Doctor Kakashi Hatake made his way through the clean halls of Konoha Heart toward the ER. He was not one for small talk, nor was he one to act as though he paid much attention to those around him, so he nimbly avoided being stopped by several familiar faces. Besides, he had somewhere he needed to be, and that place was with one Iruka Umino.

Now, Iruka did not know about this arrangement, but no matter. Little things like Umino knowing that Kakashi was infatuated with him, and that Kakashi would do anything to get into his pants—perhaps scrubs if the opportunity presented itself—were just that: little things. Kakashi paid them no mind. It was all part of his master plan: find ways in which he could spend time with the brunet doctor; enjoy his purely platonic company; become friends with his friends (which was not that hard, as they had many friends who were mutual friends of friends); hang out with Iruka; enjoy his (unfortunately) purely platonic company some more; become jealous when the brunet was in a relationship; be there for Iruka when said relationship went down the drain; and finally, more platonic stuff, all the while thinking about all the other ways in which Kakashi could enjoy Iruka.

See? Was that not a perfect plan?

Okay. So it perhaps—_perhaps_—was not the best-laid of plans. But it would do, for now and for the next... well, until Kakashi managed to snake his way out of this crush and displace it onto someone else. Not that Kakashi wanted to. Iruka was absolutely wonderful in every single way a lover should be wonderful, yet beautiful imperfections riddled every facet of the brunet. (Oh, how those imperfections turned him on!) For example, Iruka spoke with a firm resolution (turn on, much!), which translated into stubbornness, which translated into an infamously terrifying temper that Kakashi was once too many the direct cause of. Then, after a tantrum of epic proportions, a blush flooded the brunet's face. He would reach up, scratch a faded scar that crossed his nose, and apologize sweetly.

But enough of that nonsense. Kakashi was an observer, and a happy one at that.

"Doctor Hatake, get over here this instant."

Ah, the voice of an angel... an angry angel, but an angel nonetheless.

"Hatake. Now."

"Myah, Iruka. I'm here, I'm here. The elevator trip took longer than I expected."

Iruka sucked in a lungful of breath; a visible attempt to keep his anger under control. Kakashi knew the brunet hated to appear unprofessional, but there was that flare in Iruka's eyes that promised for a later reprimand.

"Doctor Hatake," Iruka said blandly, "There is a mother here who has a child—her twelve-year-old daughter—in the operating room to repair her broken arm. What I could make of the little English she knew, they are here on vacation and French is their first language. The husband left a little while ago to do... something. I didn't understand what exactly"

"So, why am I—the resident psychologist to the hospital's doctors and surgeons—needed?"

That question earned him a hard glare. "Every time you ask, and every time you receive the same answer. You know exactly what I need." If he only knew what those words did to Kakashi's heart! "Someone has to tell the poor woman what is going on, and help her fill out the forms. You are available, so I might as well get you to do the work instead of hiring some emergency translator by the hour."

Iruka tapped his foot aggressively. Hmm... he only resorted to minute displays of frustration like that when he was really, really annoyed. Perhaps Kakashi should be a bit more... complying. "Okay, Iruka. Where is she?"

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"_Bien, cette forme est la dernière, je jure. Vous devez juste remplir ces espaces. Que Docteur Umino m'a dit, que, Lilian sera dans la salle d'opération pendant le juste peu de temps plus long. Comme j'ai dit auparavant, la blessure n'était pas aussi sérieuse qu'ils ont à l'origine pensé et ils s'attendent vraiment à ce que la blessure guérisse gentiment. Je dois partir bientôt, mais au moment où Lilian est sortie, un traducteur d'hôpital officiel sera ici._"

Stroking the hair of the sleeping boy whose head laid on his lap, Iruka watched the fair-haired man closely. He might not have understood a wink of what was being said, but by the way Ms. Ames smiled and looked ready to engulf the psychologist is a hug, Iruka knew that what Kakashi said must have pleased the woman immensely.

He could always do that, Iruka noted as he did whenever Hatake's services were needed. Kakashi could always calm the frantic parents of even the most severe cases. Something about his voice—in any and every language the brunet had heard him speak—that was conversely crisp and drawling; shockingly personal yet impassively professional. Then again, it might just be the mysterious yet heartbreakingly seductive appeal of the man that wooed all into quiet submission. It was something in the way his medium-length, platinum hair swept leftwards; something about the curious eye patch covering his left eye; something about how his visible, eternally hooded eye never looked out critically. Then there was the way in which he genuinely cared about both his patients and his friends, and how he was so adorably embarrassed to have pictures taken of his face. And all those languages... oh, how sexy they sounded from his mouth.

"_Dites merci tellement, Docteur Hatake. Merci. Merci. Dites merci!_"

Maybe it was everything about Kakashi that made a grown man such as Iruka swoon like he was a teenager again.

"_Pas besoin de me remercier, mademoiselle_," Kakashi said softly. "_Reposez-vous juste pour maintenant. Je dois parler au Docteur Umino maintenant._" And after a few more cries of "_Merci_" from Ms Ames, the fair-haired man turned and walked toward where Iruka sat with the sleeping child.

"So?" Iruka asked quietly.

"I calmed her a bit, and she should be fine until her husband's presentation finishes and he joins her."

"That's good," the brunet muttered as he continued to stroke the little boy's hair.

Smiling at the action, Kakashi knelt down in front of Iruka. Before the younger of the two could say anything, the psychologist reached out and gingerly nudged the boy. "_Petit monsieur, vous devez vous réveiller._"

Iruka's first response was to hiss at Kakashi to stop, but the gentleness writ on the other's pale face was too precious to disrupt.—"_Petit monsieur._"—So, the brunet let the eye-patch wearing man slowly wake the dozing boy, a guilty part of his mind imagining that would be how Kakashi woke him up after a night of lovemaking.

When the boy—Raoul—blinked his little blue eyes languidly, Hatake smiled. "_Bonjour. Votre mère a besoin de vous. Comment de vous lui donnent une étreinte agréable?_"

Raoul blinked some more before yawning and bobbing his head in a tiny nod. With Iruka's assistance, he stood up. Turning to the brunet, Raoul mumbled, "_Le merci, joli docteur, pour me laisser pour dormir sur vos genoux_," before toddling off to his mother.

"What did he say?"

Kakashi let a knowing smirk cross his face, laughter clearly shining in his eye. From his kneeling position, he slid into the seat beside Iruka, slumping down immediately. His head lolled sideways before tiredly perching on Iruka's shoulder. "He just offered his thanks."

"Really." Kakashi nodded. They sat there for a while, just appreciating their comfortable silence in the otherwise hectic hospital. Successfully fighting off a blush, the brunet let Kakashi's smell—something akin to freshly sliced ginger—invade his senses. The scent was so lovely and familiar that Iruka had to release a heavy sigh to avoid a humiliating moan from escaping his lips.

"Well, I need to get back to work," Iruka said at last.

"As do I."

They did not move.

"I really, really need to get back."

"As do I."

No movement.

"I'm cooking salt-broiled saury tonight. If you get off me now, you may come over."

Kakashi sat up immediately. "_Mon joli docteur_, we have a deal."

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FRENCH TRANSLATIONS (a big thanks to LJ's acidvantrip for the help with the French)

_1. Okay, this form is the last one, I swear. You just need to fill out these spaces. From what Doctor Umino told me, Lilian will be in the operating room for just a while longer. Like I said before, the injury was not as serious as they originally thought, and they do expect the wound to heal nicely. I must leave soon, but by the time Lilian is out, an official hospital translator will be here._

_2. Thank you so much, Doctor Hatake. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!_

_3. No need to thank me, miss. Just relax for now. I must talk to Doctor Umino now._

_4. Little sir, you must wake up. Hello. Your mother needs you. How about you give her a nice hug?_

_5. Thank you, pretty doctor, for letting me sleep on your lap._

_6. My pretty doctor..._

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	2. A Friend

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_Chapter Two: __Ένας φίλος_ (A friend)

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It was with a heavy heart that Kakashi kept his exposed eye off Iruka's lovely crotch, which was an exceptionally difficult task considering that only two feet separated him from the subtle bulge in those... pants. He might have been able to deal with it on any other day, but today Iruka was not wearing jeans. Okay, he was wearing "jeans," but not jeans as the fair-haired psychologist understood jeans. No... today, Iruka had worn something akin to black denim tights, and all Kakashi could think about was why they had to be so damn sexy.

Was it just to tease Kakashi with the knowledge that only fabric—and perhaps social conventions—kept him from touching the brunet's (surely beautiful) cock? Yes. That was it. It was the universe conspiring against him once again. Nothing that perfect yet untouchable would be presented to Kakashi unless some being had decided to punish him on a celestial scale.

Instead, Kakashi focused on something equally as distracting: Iruka's lips. Oh, with every movement came an imagined sensation: _the_ was a little sigh as Kakashi pressed a kiss to the brunet's wrist; _trainee_ flexed Iruka's mouth like a lustful demand; and _superior_... well, that word did awful things to Kakashi's mind anyway. A sentence was a complete string of actions, and a conversation so much more than that.

But, in the end, they were only hopeless imaginings.

"...And then she dropped the cup."

The train lurched to a halt. Some people got on and off, but—unfortunately for the fair-haired man's dirty mind—the passengers at either side did not leave their seats. (Kakashi now knew what a mistake he had made when he did not force Iruka to sit down instead of him. Being at crotch-level was never a good thing.)

"She just... _dropped_ it after three hours of trying to get the kid to pee. I understand that the boy should have known to close the lid, but come on! Hinata—god bless that sweet girl—should not be so careless. And to think, it was all because the kid said she was cute."

"I am sure that her shyness will lessen once she is on the job longer." Kakashi smiled sympathetically at the work-weary man. "Remember, even you were not perfect when you started working in the ER."

Iruka glared. "Why do you have to be so rational all the time?"

"Because you wouldn't have me any other way," Kakashi responded sweetly, earning another glare (this one was slightly more exasperated than the previous). He knew that there was some truth to his short explanation: Iruka considered Kakashi to be his voice of reason, as well as the most frank person out of all his friends. The brunet always seemed to trust Kakashi's input in any situation, which struck the psychologist as odd since he tended to see things a little... _differently_ than most. Even when his proposals were absolutely preposterous (which they weren't often, of course), Iruka valued his opinion just as much as that from anyone else.

Iruka had yet to respond after a curiously long moment, so Kakashi decided to change the subject as silence led to staring which led to drooling which led to downright groveling... all of which the psychologist would prefer to avoid. "So, it's been a while since I've seen Naruto. What's he up to?"

**-o0o-**

Iruka rearranged the handles of the plastic bags he held, hoping to increase circulation but failing rather miserably. Theoretically, he should have either transferred one of the loaded bags to the other hand or ask Kakashi for assistance, but the mere effort of suppressing anger/embarrassment/latent desire made Iruka wary of diverting his attention for a second. Even the steps he took—long, purposeful strides that pulled him forward at an unnatural rate—read of his frustration.

Kakashi had not commented on the curious change in Iruka's demeanor; instead, he patiently kept to the brunet's side, half-leading the man to his own apartment. He seemed as unfazed as he always was: just a fair figure of handsome mystique.

Then again, it was not Kakashi who Anko, shop owner and longtime friend, had winked at in a clear indication of approval. No, it was Iruka who has received that mischievous wink; and it was Iruka who Anko had whispered her congratulations on finally asking Kakashi out to dinner. ("You're even cooking for him? How _romantic_, Iruka. Maybe he'll let you cop a feel if you play your cards right!") The sly smirk as she rung up his purchases only exasperated the doctor's desire-to-ring-a-girl's-_neck_.

Needless to say, Iruka grabbed his bags and ran out of the grocery store the second money had exchanged hands.

Well, so long as he was working on a theoretical basis, Iruka should have known better than to bring Kakashi to _Mitarashi's Fruits and Vegetables_ on a day he himself was already aggravated by his intern's clumsiness. Anko thoroughly enjoyed poking fun at his crush—infatuation—undying and irreversible love—whenever he and the psychologist were together. (Or, frankly; any other time she had the chance.)

Why Iruka had confided in her remained a mystery that he had yet to puzzle... although her vast collection of bloodthirsty hellspawn—err, pet snakes might have had a little something to do with it.

With an internal sigh of gratitude, Iruka rounded the corner of his block. The taste of comfort rested on the tip of his tongue like a fine dark chocolate, and a smile finally broke through his displeasure. Just as it should be, Iruka's home was a sanctuary. A place that was not the ER. A place that did not smell of illness and artificial lemon. A place where he could just... relax and not be surprised by a near-dead child or an unexpected burst of crying signaling something had gone wrong—so very, very wrong.

No. His agenda for the next few hours was clear: prepare a side or two; have the other man toss a salad; cook salt-broiled saury (Kakashi's favorite); have a delightful conversation with the handsome shrink before calling it a night. Depending on how late it was, Kakashi left or stayed in the guest bedroom, as he often did. Yes. Order. Nothing—

_Ring_.

Iruka stopped short, nearly tripping over the step to the entrance of his apartment building. He blinked out of his thoughts before looking toward Kakashi. "Your phone," Iruka said blandly after Kakashi ignored the second ring.

"Oh." The fair-haired man delicately pulled out his cell, putting it to his ear without checking the Caller ID. Iruka took the opportunity to put his heavy bags down.

"Hello?" Kakashi said nonchalantly before a sudden transformation churned his passive expression into one of sour poignancy. "Y_ειά σου_, Eugene_. Aυτό που εσείς θέλει?_"

A few seconds. "Oh. _Ξέχασα για τη συνεδρίασή μας απόψε_."

Iruka watched silently as the slightly older man listened to "Eugene" speaking, wondering what was it that made Kakashi's lips pucker so distractedly. Iruka took it as a personal offense that anyone made Kakashi that affronted: it should be illegal to do someone that pretty.

"_Αυτό που εσείς με θέλει για να κάνει?_" The man on the phone's voice steadily increased until even Iruka could hear the harsh crash of words spitting out of the cell.

"_Είμαι με έναν φίλο._—

"_Αριθ._

"_Ένας φίλος._—" Kakashi's voice chilled as he glanced quickly into Iruka's confused eyes before turning his gaze down the street.

Iruka grew instantly uncomfortable, as if he was witnessing an extremely private moment between strangers—Kakashi's foreign tongue, although entrancing, made Iruka entirely uneasy; as if Kakashi and his mind full of languages and words and worlds Iruka would never understand separated him from the psychologist indefinitely. It was a disheartening thought.

But Iruka did not—could not—leave. He wanted to watch Kakashi and this side of his voice—mouth—stance—eye: the cold, distant, and unattainable man Iruka would never have.

"_Ναι, είναι άτομο._

"_Αριθ_.

"_Δεν εξαπατώ. Μην με κατηγορήστε για αυτόν._

"Eugene, _nα είστε δίκαιος. _

"_Μην πέστε αυτού για το φίλο μου._

"_Το σταματήστε_, Eugene.—" Just as suddenly as the terse tone had swept over him, Kakashi sighed in defeat. His fingers threaded languidly through his hair before making a small adjustment to his eye patch.

"Eugene.—

"Είμαι ξεχασιάρης, και ξέρετε αυτό. Και λυπάμαι. Αλλά δεν θα ζητήσω συγγνώμη για την κατοχή ενός αρσενικού φίλου, και αρνούμαι να κληθώ εξαπατώντας ψεύτης.

"—_Εντάξει_.

"—_Πρόστιμο._

"_θα δω τι μπορώ να κάνω. _

"_Κάποτε απόψε. _

"_Εντάξει._ _Αντίο_."

Kakashi hung up with a hard snap. Awkwardly, Iruka offered a supportive furrow of his eyebrows. "Kakashi? Is something wrong?"

Kakashi smiled lightly, picking up one of the plastic bags. Iruka did the same. "Myah, Iruka, don't be so concerned about me. It was just Eugene."

"Eugene?" Iruka opened the front door to his apartment complex, holding it open for his friend. They entered and started their way up to Iruka's place.

The psychologist frowned at the question. "He's the guy I've been seeing."

"Oh. Lover's quarrel?"

"You can say that. I forgot we had planned to meet up tonight."

Iruka's heart clenched. He stopped halfway between step seven and eight of the second flight, giving Kakashi a clearly dumbfounded look. "Kakashi!"

"Yes?" The brunet grabbed his bag from the other, pushing the older man down the stairs. "What are you doing, Iruka?"

"Go be with your boyfriend!" Iruka ordered despite his own inclination to have Kakashi stay with him (forever and ever and ever). "I will not have you standing anyone up for a simple saury."

"But—"

"No." Kakashi looked up at the frazzled brunet. Iruka imagined a flash of disappointment crossing his friend's exposed eye; it would have fooled him if it was not gone the next second.

"Are you sure?" Iruka nodded. "But you bought the ingredients already."

"More food for me, then," the brunet joked. "Don't worry about me. I have Shuu to keep me company. My cat's attention is more than enough for me. Have a good night, Kakashi."

Kakashi hesitated, but eventually whispered a short, "Okay. Have a good one," before turning around and walking down the stairs he just climbed.

With the handles of his plastic bags digging into his hands, Iruka sighed as deeply as Kakashi had over the phone.

His plans for the night were ruined.

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_GREEK TRANSLATIONS_

_1. Hello, Eugene. What do you want? /_

_2. Oh, I forgot about our meeting tonight. /_

_3. What do you want me to do? /_

_4. I am with a friend. / No. / A friend. /_

_5. Yes, he is a man. / No. / I do not cheat. Do not accuse me of that. / Eugene. Be fair. / Do not say that about my friend. / Stop it, Eugene. /_

_6. Eugene. / I am forgetful, and you know this. And I am sorry. But I will not apologize for having a male friend, and I refuse to be called a cheating liar. / Okay. / Fine. / I will see what I can do. / Sometime tonight. / Okay. Bye._

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Author's Notes: This chapter is extremely belated, I know. I was having terrible difficulties with the chapter (turns out, I just had to switch the POV...) and between fests, moding my comm(s), communication with the wonderful kita, and, well, RL, this was put in the back of my mind. However, I decided to post this now because my f-list (as well as myself) has seen some rather hard times lately. I know that this in no way makes the problems you are facing fixed and such, but I hope that I can at least get a little hint of relief. You are all in my hearts.


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